Heart of darkness: The Secret DJ on touring
And how it turns even the nicest people into monsters
Top of my list for sheer waste is the EDM giant whose team spent months – and just under a million dollars – with boffins making a system that controlled the entire (stadium) show’s lights from a tablet – because a professional lighting guy knows nothing at all about lights, right? And when the mega-doofus got there and couldn’t immediately understand how it all worked he just threw the tablet away over his shoulder.
I’m no saint. Although in my defence, my own hissy-fit was a scam to get a hotel upgrade. My issue was with a massive horrible sofa. It was bright purple and over eight feet tall at the backrest. No that isn’t a cartoon ‘eight feet tall!’ it was actually an 8’-high, bright purple sofa. It looked like Barney the fucking Dinosaur was lurking in the corner silently watching you have a piss. As the words “can’t possibly co-exist with furniture that hideous” came out of my mouth I experienced something alcoholics call ‘a moment of clarity’. I was truly lost. I had passed a point of no return.
Why? There is isolation and there are drugs. There is also massive ego. But it is also about being in a bubble. It’s easy to laugh at DJs complaining, but the life can genuinely be stressful and exhausting. Which adds mental croutons to the demented soup.